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<title>Child Imaginos: After The Apocalypse by Imaginos_Buzzardo_Desdinova</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397280">Child Imaginos: After The Apocalypse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imaginos_Buzzardo_Desdinova/pseuds/Imaginos_Buzzardo_Desdinova'>Imaginos_Buzzardo_Desdinova</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Imaginos - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Post-Apocalypse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:35:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,673</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397280</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imaginos_Buzzardo_Desdinova/pseuds/Imaginos_Buzzardo_Desdinova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 1<br/>Imaginos knelt on the ground and wept. The evilness that had taken over his body almost a hundred years ago no longer held sway upon his mind. It was free. But that freedom came with a heavy burden, that of the knowledge of all the pain and death that had been wrought by his hands under that cold and calculating name.</p><p>It was too much to bear. Tears fell from his eyes as he cast his gaze downward at the rubble that had once been a thriving city. </p><p>Standing, he walked amidst the debris until he came across a little rag doll lying on the ground half sticking out of the remains of a destroyed building that he thought might have once been a car park. He wanted to dig out the rubble. To give the child whose body was crushed beneath a proper burial. It was the least he could do after what Desdinova had done to the world. But the rubble was too unstable and moving a single piece was likely to bring the rest crashing down upon him.</p><p>Instead, he walked on, tears flowing more strongly now, until he found a bench that was somehow undamaged. Sitting down, it was then that he remembered the power the Invisible Ones had given him. The abilities that Desdinova had coveted and used to destroy the world.</p><p>“I don’t want this,” he said. “I don’t want to remember any of what Desdinova did. I just want to start again.”</p><p>And start again he did, his body dwindling in size and age until a child of six sat on a bench that had only recently been occupied by an ancient man who had borne the semblance of a man of thirty.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 2</p><p>The little boy sniffled back his tears he did not understand and wiped his runny nose on the back of his dusty sleeve. Hopping down from the bench, he looked around in confusion. Where was he? What had happened to the world? It looked so different to the little New Hampshire town where he’d grown up. There were so many strange shapes that he did not understand. Wreckage was all around him. None of it was made of the stuff that was used to build the houses in the place he had grown up in. It was hard and heavy when he tried to pick it up. But something had knocked it all down. He guessed it was something big.</p><p>Walking in a random direction, he began calling out.</p><p>“Mom? Mom?”</p><p>It was the only name that mattered to him. The lack of response was heartbreaking to him. He knew he needed to find her. She had been there with him only a few minutes ago. And her words had been kind. They were getting ready to go to church, and she had been telling him how God loved him. Now she was gone and there was no church or even people to fill it. Was God gone, too? This thought made him start crying again.</p><p>It wasn’t long before the child had found himself thoroughly lost. He didn’t know this place. Didn’t know why it looked like something had destroyed it. All he knew was that he had gone to sleep in perfectly fine New Hampshire and had woken up in horribly ruined wherever this place was.</p><p><em>You’ll be okay,</em> a voice in his mind told him. <em>Trust yourself. And head toward the water. You’ll find people in that direction.</em></p><p>“What happened here?” the boy asked. “Who am I and why can’t I remember anything?”</p><p><em>An evil thing has touched this world,</em> the voice said. <em>That is all I can tell you. You’re not ready to hear more. But you will learn the rest when you are. All you need to know is that you are Imaginos, and with that identity comes certain powers. For now, know only that you have the ability to shift your form into that of a bird of prey called Buzzardo. I don’t recommend you take that form too often. In your present setting, it is likely a scavenger would see that form as food.</em></p><p>“I’ll remember,” Imaginos promised.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  Chapter 3</p><p>Despite the voice’s warning, the child Imaginos had no choice but to take on the form of Buzzardo in order to find food himself. But this time his form was different. Still avian, but that of a red-headed vulture (AN: I absolutely refuse to call those wonderful birds by the insulting name of “turkey vulture”.). Its wings spread wide, it circled almost menacingly above the ruins.</p><p>Almost menacingly.</p><p>It wasn’t a very large red-headed vulture. And its diminutive stature made it a bit less intimidating than it would have otherwise been.</p><p>Buzzardo spotted something that might, or might not, pass for dinner and swooped down to attack. At the last minute, however, he saw it was nothing but fur and bone; no meat on it. He made a somewhat pathetic crash landing not too far away as he tried to pull up at the last minute.</p><p>“Oops,” an amused but friendly-sounding voice said as the old man it belonged to walked toward Buzzardo, not getting too close. “Well, well. What have we got here? Lost are ya?”</p><p>The man looked about sixty at least, with a coarse beard and a leather jacket.</p><p>Buzzardo snapped his beak at the stranger. He remembered the voice’s warning and was not at all keen on becoming dinner while trying to find it.</p><p>“Relax, my friend!” the old man laughed as he held up a hand. “I won’t hurt you.”</p><p>The man put his rucksack down and pulled a package from it.</p><p>“It’s jerky,” he told the bird, pulling a piece of the dried meat from the package and tossing it in Buzzardo’s direction. “Not what you’re used to, I’m sure. But its better than nothing.”</p><p>Buzzardo sniffed, uncertainly, at the meat, then tasted it. It was tough, and a bit saltier he would have liked, but otherwise it was refreshing and rather tasty.</p><p>“There,” the old man smiled. “Feeling better?”</p><p>Buzzardo stared at him, then gave a nod and shook himself in satisfaction.</p><p>“Hmm,” the old man said. “Do you understand me?”</p><p>Buzzardo nodded.</p><p>“Strange,” the old man decided.  “I can’t say I’ve ever talked with a bird who could understand me. But then again, I’ve never talked to a bird. I think I’ll call you Listener.”</p><p>The old man fished through his rucksack for more supplies.</p><p>“His name is Buzzardo,” Imaginos told him, firmly.<br/>The old man looked up in surprise. “Where in blazes did you come from, kid?”</p><p>“New Hampshire,” Imaginos told him.</p><p>“Nonsense,” the old man scoffed. “There hasn’t been a New Hampshire in forty years. Not since the Final War. Leastwise, I hope it was the final one.”</p><p>“War?” Imaginos asked, confusedly.</p><p>“Yes. War.” </p><p>The old man looked at Imaginos.</p><p>“Don’t tell me they don’t teach kids about war in school,” the man’s face softened. “Ah, but you’re probably too young to go to school. Now, where’s that bird?”</p><p>Imaginos, without thinking, changed back into Buzzardo.</p><p>“What on earth are they teaching kindergarteners these days?” the old man muttered.</p><p> </p><p>******</p><p>Eventually, the child returned to his human form. </p><p>“You must be tired after all that,” he said, sitting down on a pile of debris and patting the softest spot next to him.</p><p>Imaginos looked at him cautiously.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” the old man said. “It must be lonely being out here by yourself. No wonder you can’t remember where you’re really from.”</p><p>“Is God dead, mister?” Imaginos asked, his voice fearful.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” the old man replied. “There’s a church not too far from here that’s somehow still standing. Maybe that’s a sign?”</p><p>“But why did all this get ruined?” </p><p>The old man frowned at Imaginos. “Unfortunately, that’s one of the downsides of Free Will.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p>The old man watched Imaginos fall asleep as exhaustion final took him over. He took off his coat and put it over the boy.</p><p><em>He’s way too skinny,</em> he thought as he looked at the sleeping child. <em>Not surprising since he eats like a bird. Literally. And what of his education? Surely he has no family. Probably they tossed him out because of his peculiarity. And lonely? Well, he’s got me now. But so what? He hardly knows me. I must be as scary as I am comforting to him. I suppose I am stuck with him for now. I can’t just leave the poor thing alone. Even if he can fend for himself in his avian form, this is no place for a  small boy. It’s a shame there are no families for him in this area. </em></p><p>Imaginos shifted in his sleep. He let out a little sob and tried to get comfortable. </p><p>The old man looked sadly down at the boy. It was unfair that a child could find no comfort in the world. That a little boy had to suffer a pile of rocks to be his bed and the rib cage and coat of a stranger to be his pillow and blanket.</p><p>
  <em>Tomorrow I will take us North, and we will search for a place where there is a soft place to lie our heads down for the night. For now, the child needs his sleep and I will protect him. Not that he needs protection. Such an unusual child. So full of fear and confusion. Where is he really from, I wonder? And how did he survive alone long enough to get here?</em>
</p><p>He looked at the ground where a number of black feathers rested.</p><p>Never mind. I can see how he survived. But there has to be more than that to it. Sure it gives food and protection. But...</p><p>He trailed off. There was a lot to be said for the boy’s abilities. But they were rather lacking when it came to friendships.</p><p>
  <em>To reveal himself so readily to me. He must have been very lonely to take such a risk.</em>
</p><p> </p>
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